


Something Akin to a Fairytale V: The Tempest and the Victory

by bluetoast



Category: Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Asgard (Marvel), Dubious Consent, F/M, Forced Marriage, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-04
Updated: 2015-11-04
Packaged: 2018-04-29 20:39:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5141759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluetoast/pseuds/bluetoast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five hundred years ago, King Odin died unexpectedly and his son Thor assumed the throne, unmarried and childless. He wasn't worried, as his brother Loki did, and no one objected to his nephew being his heir. That was before an assassin struck. Eighteen months later, Thor finds himself married to Sigyn, a girl nearly half his age and he knows all anyone cares about is he and his bride producing an heir. The new queen of Asgard was chosen because she was 'unremarkable'  and from a large family. Sigyn, however, is anything but ordinary. </p><p>Written for HC Bingo - 'forced marriage'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Akin to a Fairytale V: The Tempest and the Victory

**Author's Note:**

> In this universe, Thor and company are older than they are in the films, and the war with Jotunheim happened around 184 BCE.
> 
> The current year on Midgard is 2016.
> 
> See end notes for age descriptions.

Thor turned over in his bed, slowly opening his eyes to stare at the back of the young woman still slumbering next to him. Yesterday, he and the girl (she'll always be a girl to him, she was a full twelve hundred years his junior) had been wed in a ceremony that had seemed more charade than anything else. He had only known a handful of things about her, but even he could see that she had spent their wedding day with a smile as forced as his had been. He reached out and absently brushed the chestnut colored curls splayed on the pillow, and he wondered how in the Nine it had come to this. The girl was the granddaughter of the current king of Vanaheim and everything about this marriage had been arranged by someone else. He had not spoken more than a handful of words to his wife in the past thirty-six hours. He twisted the end of one of the curls around his finger, noting how soft it was. 

There had been no getting out of the wedding night, and he had been as gentle as he could, but he could still remember her soft cries of pain as he claimed her, little noises he never wanted to hear her make again. It was a wretched, sick feeling what the two of them had been forced into; he knew full well that his wife had been partially drugged to make her 'compliant' and the sick feeling that had gone through Thor when he got into this bed last night returned. He'd more or less raped the poor girl in the name of duty. He was never going to do such a thing again. The council could all go slay themselves before he'd hurt his wife like that again. 

The truth of the matter was, he had never wanted to marry. It wasn't that he objected to the idea, but when he'd become the king of Asgard following his father's death in a freak riding accident five hundred years ago, he'd committed himself to serving the people of Asgard. Besides, his brother Loki was already married at that point and he and his wife had an infant son. The council and the lords had been perfectly fine with his nephew becoming his heir. Once that had been settled, he was able to get to work and no one mentioned his ever getting married, and the subject vanished from conversation. 

That was before an assassin on Alfheim murdered his brother, his sister in law Sif, and his nephew Ullr in cold blood. 

It had been a year and a half since then and today, he'd woken up feeling better than he had yesterday, but he felt as hollow and as empty as ever. He smoothed down the girl's hair, wishing the circumstances surrounding their marriage could be different. Norns, he hadn't even had much of a say in who his wife had been, she had been selected because she was one of seven children, and even then, it had made him feel sick to hear the privy council talk about his bride like she was a broodmare, and not a princess and future queen of Asgard. 

The girl made a small whimper as she woke, her shoulders tensing and Thor pulled his hand away from her. He sat up, tucking the bedclothes around her naked form. “You can stay abed. There's no need for you to rise, Sigyn.” 

The girl turned over, looking up at him, her blue eyes confused. “What time is it?” 

“It's just after the mid-morning bell.” He touched her cheek, then slipped from the bed, not looking back as he went into the bathing chamber and quickly washed himself, already knowing that the whole of Asgard was expecting the two of them to remain in his chambers – now _their_ chambers – for several days, like all couples would, 'getting to know one another' but Thor knew better. The council couldn't care less if he and Sigyn knew a single thing about each other, all they wanted was him to sire a child on his practically still a child herself wife and secure the throne of Asgard. 

He came back into the room after pulling on a pair of clean trousers to find Sigyn sitting up, hugging the covers to her chest with one arm, the hand of her other rubbing at her eyes. “Are you all right?” She nodded and he came and sat down next to her, taking her hand in both of his. “Don't feel you have to say yes to that.” He brushed her hand with his thumb.

She looked up and gave him a weak smile. “I don't know how I feel.” She shifted her gaze to their hands. “I just...” 

He gave her a kiss on the forehead. “I'm certain that you didn't expect to find yourself getting married to someone nearly twice your age.” He rose and handed her the robe he'd removed from her the previous night. “Here.” He helped her get dressed, trying not to see the pale bruises on her hips. “I will go see if breakfast is laid out in the other room. It's never good to try and sort things out with an empty stomach.” 

Sigyn let out a giggle as she fastened the belt. “I am hungry.” She replied and he went into the front part of the chambers, frowning at the stacks of gifts that had been left for them while he and his wife slept. He caught movement out of the corner of his eye and saw the girl had come to stand next to him, and he was once again reminded of the great difference in both their age and their size. “How did you sleep?” 

He led her over to the table, pulling out a chair for her. “I slept well enough, I suppose.” He sat down and watched as she fixed the tea, pouring both of them a cup. “Thank you.” Thor answered when she handed him one. “How did you rest?” 

“Surprisingly well.” She dropped two lumps of sugar into her tea, followed by a slice of orange. “Yesterday was rather.... exhausting.” 

Thor took a sip of tea, glancing over the rim of the fine china at her. “I did not sleep well the previous night.” 

“That makes two of us.” She set her cup down, pulling the napkin on the basket of scones open. “Well, at least no one is expecting us to be madly in love, or for us to act as if we are.” 

He choked on his tea, and then let out a weak chuckle. “There is that.” He set his saucer down. “I want to apologize for what happened last night. It was not my wish to see you ah... incapacitated. Nor will I allow such a thing to happen again.” 

She kept her gaze on her hands. “I was not the first bride to be given that drug and I will not be the last.” 

“I will not be a monster.” He replied, reaching over and squeezing one of her hands. “For a long time, my duty has been to Asgard and to her people. My duty is still to them, but I cannot, in good conscience, treat their queen in such a callous manner. I will not take you by force or in the name of 'duty.'” He sighed, “Sigyn, I know as well as you do that all of Asgard expect us to produce an heir before our marriage is a year old. As far as I'm concerned, we can still be childless come this day next year, or you can be carrying, or we may have a babe in arms – it is of no difference to me.” 

“It makes quite a difference to Asgard.” She glanced at him, then back at her hands. “They never say anything to husbands when couples don't have children. I'll be the one held accountable Thor, not you.” 

Thor set a hand on her cheek and lifted her head. “This is wretched thing we're both caught up in Sigyn.” He sighed and gave her an encouraging smile. “They have given us this time to 'get to know one another' and I propose we do just that.” He caught the ghost of a smile on her face, and managed a small chuckle when her stomach rumbled before he could speak again. “You need to eat.” 

She glanced over the table and took out one of the scones, smearing it with clotted cream and jam. “So do you.” She replied, in a rather motherish tone. “You didn't eat much more than I did yesterday.” She took a rather large bite of the scone. 

He nodded and took a scone for himself. “Truth be told, I don't even remember what we were served for dinner.” He frowned, trying to recall the plates that had been set in front of them for the feast. “And I suppose that it is good that the assembly didn't have to wait for us to try something before they could eat. They just had to wait for us to start.” 

Sigyn set the scone down and took a sip of tea as he ate his own scone. “There was something in a green sauce. I remember that quite clearly, because I couldn't figure out what sort of wine would be paired with something that color.” 

He snorted into his cup. “I must confess, I never noticed such a thing.” 

“I had lessons on the subject.” She licked a spot of jam off her finger. “I became drunk for the first time during one of them. Apparently no one informed my governess how strong Asgardian Syrah is.” 

Thor had to cover his mouth to keep his scone from spraying over the table. He swallowed quickly, then took a large sip of tea to wash it down. “Perhaps she got it confused with Vanir Malbec? They are a similar color.” 

She rolled her eyes in response. “It's highly likely, considering she often had trouble telling the difference between turkey and parlst.” 

“Parlst actually has flavor, how is that possible?” He grimaced. “I do not believe there is a more bland meat than turkey.” 

“I have no idea. I just remember waking up with a splitting headache after that lesson and a strange desire to learn about Midgardian pastries.” She took a sip of tea before starting to fix herself another scone. “That was shortly after I turned seven hundred and fifty two.” She shot him a look. “And when was the first time you got drunk?” 

Thor coughed and uncovered the dish of sausages and took up a fork. “It was when I was just over four hundred and my brother and I decided we'd see what my parents were keeping in that cupboard in their chambers.” He gave her grin. “In our defense, we thought that the currant wine was actually cordial.” 

She covered her mouth to hide her smile. “What, you didn't want to try the whiskey?” 

“Well, we might have, but the wine was what we tried first – and it was sweet.” He chuckled, feeling sheepish. “Oh, Mother was torn between being angry and amused.” He shook his head. “Father was furious, but I was never certain why. Either at our foolishness, or the fact that we'd drunk _all_ of the currant wine, and he'd been saving it for a special occasion.” He ate a bite of sausage, then set his fork down, his appetite gone. He looked up when he felt Sigyn's hand brush his. 

“I did not mean to make you sad.” She squeezed his hand, her gaze meeting his. “I just...” 

He shook his head. “It is not your fault. You will find that some days are easier for me than others. I still grieve for my brother and his family.” He looked down at their hands. “Why do they think a year is enough time for mourning? It's such a brief amount of time.” 

“I cannot tell you that.” She rose to her feet and wrapped her arms around him, hugging him to her, and she kissed the top of his head. He let out a shuddering breath against her chest, inhaling deeply as her grip around him tightened. Her fingers gently combed through his hair and he almost hissed at the contact. This was the sort of hug he had needed when he had been informed of Loki's death, not the cold feeling of a hand on the arm, which seemed like no comfort at all. “Official mourning may last a year, but true mourning lasts the rest of your life.” 

Thor lifted his head, but did not pull himself away from her; he already decided that he liked this sort of contact. “I'm afraid you will have to grow accustomed to my bouts of melancholy.” He replaced his head against her, loving how warm and soft she was. 

“And you'll have to get used to my hugs.” Sigyn replied, smoothing his hair down. 

“I believe that will not be difficult.” He sighed softly and then, slowly, cautiously, slid his hand underneath the fabric of her robe, feeling her sharp intake of breath when his fingers made contact with her nipple. “May I?” 

“Uh... uh huh.” She answered, her grip on his shoulder tightening as he cupped her breast, and he lifted his head to watch her reaction as he continued touching her, a long dormant part of him stirring to life, a part of him he'd nearly forgotten about. He undid the sash of her robe, pushing the fabric aside, letting the garment fall to her feet and set both of his hands against her skin, drawing a low whine from her. 

“Do you want me to stop?” He studied her face as she took several breaths to calm herself. 

“No.” She swallowed and looked down at him. “I...” she wet her lips, the bottom one trembling. “I don't know what to do.” 

In response, he smiled and pulled her gently down into his lap, cupping her cheek with his hand. “All you need to do,” he kissed the corner of her mouth, “is tell me if I hurt you, or I do something you do not like.” He kissed the other side. “And not be afraid to do so.” 

She nodded, sliding her hand off of his shoulder and into his hair, her thumb brushing against his ear. “I think I can manage that.” 

He leaned into her touch, rubbing his cheek against her arm. “Sigyn.” He kissed her then; seriously kissed her, working her mouth open with his, letting his tongue sweep hers. She shifted so her knees were on either side of his hips, and he slid his hand between her parted legs. His questing fingers gently parted her folds and when he slipped them inside, he found her soaking. When he brushed her clit with his thumb, she broke the kiss with a gasp of surprise. 

“Thor...” Her voice was quavering, half frustrated, half flushed with pleasure. She pressed her forehead against his, her body trembling as he worked his fingers in and out of her, stretching her slowly. Despite the heat and the wetness of her quim, she was still so tight; and as much as he longed to bury his cock deep inside her, he wanted it to be as painless for his bride as possible. 

“Yes, darling.” He reluctantly pulled his fingers free and he stood up, sliding one arm under her, the hand of the other pressed between her shoulder blades. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her back to their bed, breakfast completely forgotten as he laid Sigyn down. She crawled into the middle of the bed, watching him as he removed his pants and joined her. Her eyes darted down to his cock and then back to his face, and the small look of fear she had was almost heartbreaking. He kissed her softly, settling down on the bed next to her, his hand resting on her stomach. “Do you trust me?” 

Sigyn closed her eyes, swallowing several times in an effort to calm herself. When she opened them again, there was still a look of apprehension, but he could see it was more nerves than fear. “I trust you.” She kept her eyes on his as he slid his hand down her belly and back between her legs, a tiny whine escaping her when he worked his fingers into her quim, her thighs parting slightly in invitation. Thor leaned forward and ran his tongue over one of her nipples, drawing another whimper from his bride. He smiled against her skin before closing his mouth around the stiff peak and began to suck and lave at it, while thrusting his fingers in and out of her depths. 

Outside, the bright spring morning clouded over, and before noon, the sky above Asgard was alive with storms for the first time in five hundred years, bringing with them a torrent of rain, sheets of lightning and thunder crashed across the realm well into the night. 

**  
Sigyn sank up to her chin in the wonderfully hot bathwater, the bubbles brushing against her cheeks. She tilted her head back against the rim of the tub, feeling her body relax. Today, she and Thor were to appear in court, their week of isolation over. She knew that he had gone to look over documents and missives regarding the state of affairs in Asgard while they had been sequestered, and she was enjoying the first serious alone time she had had since the day before the wedding. True, there had been times when she and Thor had been in separate parts of their chambers, much as they were now, but given that she had not had a bath to herself in all that time – she was determined to enjoy herself. 

She leaned back so she could let her legs float to the surface of the tub and she wriggled her toes, and felt the small twinge of pain in her thighs as she did so. “Norns.” She sighed and closed her eyes, already knowing what was awaiting her when she and Thor went into the Great Hall in a few hours. She snorted, wondering just how stupid the people of Asgard were, expecting her to emerge from this week with her belly already fat and round; or even if they weren't, that was the only part of her that anyone was going to be paying attention to. It wasn't as if she hadn't known what was expected of her when her grandfather informed her that she was getting married to the king of Asgard. 

Quite honestly, she was surprised that she wasn't kept lying prostrate in bed with her legs propped up for hours on end.

Well, there was one thing the people of Asgard couldn't accuse her of, and that was not trying. A week on this realm was seven days, two hundred and fifty two hours long – and in the past week, she estimated that she and Thor had spent at least a hundred and sixty of them being intimate in some form. Last night had been the first night of the past seven that they had slumbered for more than six hours straight. It was actually sleeping next to each other that she liked more than anything; there was something wonderfully safe about feeling her husband's arm over her, holding her close. 

The realm had been left to the capable hands of Queen Mother Frigga, who Sigyn was rather afraid of; even though Thor told her that her bark was far worse than her bite. Well, of course he'd say that, she was his mother. She was expected to have tea with her mother-in-law every day for the foreseeable future, and she would just put on her 'tea with grandmother' face until she was more at ease. It was a strange sort of arrangement in her mind; technically, _she_ was the queen of Asgard, Thor had crowned her as part of the wedding ceremony, but she would not be seen as the queen until she did her duty and provided an heir. 

“Damn and blast.” She held up her hand and a sponge soared from its place on the washstand to her. “At this rate, I'll probably be expected to be pregnant and maintain my girlish figure at the same time.” She filled the sponge with water and then rung it out over her arm. It wouldn't be long before her ladies maid, Ayls, showed up to dress her and do her hair. Well, that was one thing she didn't mind having someone else do for her; it was so hard to get her hair to look _right_ when she did it herself. 

The whole sharing a chamber was a foreign concept to her, she had not shared a room with anyone since she left the nursery. On Vanaheim, couples did not share rooms, at least, no one in the upper class. She had once asked her mother why it was so, and gotten the answer of 'that's just how it is' and she had not asked again. By that point, she already knew where babies came from so it wasn't like she hadn't _known_ what couples did in the bedchamber; then again, her mother had never planned that she would be married to someone on Asgard or another realm where couples shared beds every night. It was strange; couples in the Vanir nobility didn't share sleeping arrangements and had more children than they did on Asgard. Then again, that wasn't hard proof; Alfheim nobles shared, and reproduced like Midgardians. 

She ran the sponge over her neck and shoulders, chuckling to herself. Around day four of her and Thor's confinement, the two of them had been lying in perfect post-coital bliss when he'd made the remark that while they might not be madly in love with each other, they certainly were in lust with each other. Sigyn felt herself flush all over again at the memory and distinctly remembered telling him that she didn't see what the problem with that was. He had laughed in response and then, like little children, had a pillow fight. Unlike children, however, the fight ended when he pinned her against the wall and took her standing up. 

“Sigyn?” Thor's voice came from the doorway. 

“Yes?” She replied, her voice coming out as a squeak, before she shook her head to clear it. 

“Sorry, I didn't want to disturb you, but Ayls is here.” He sounded slightly amused. “She is in your dressing room, and seems to be rather disturbed by your lack of dirty laundry.” 

She turned over in the tub, glaring at him. Her lady's maid often talked to herself, and Sigyn had just let her carry on. “I think it's better that she found that than clothes in need of mending.” 

He chuckled and came over to her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Perhaps I should make a study of your gowns so I know how to get you out of them, so she never finds that.” He smiled. “I'll leave you to your bath.” He touched her cheek again and then headed for the door, and before he reached it, Ayls swept through it, her expression full of disapproval. “Apologies.” He nodded at the two of them before leaving. 

“Honestly.” Ayls shook her head. “How long have you been in that tub?” 

Sigyn turned back over and pulled her knees towards her chin. “Not long, Ayls, I'm not going to wrinkle.” 

The woman made a small disapproving noise and came over. “Let's get that hair of yours cleaned. I can't imagine you've washed it recently.” 

It was on the tip of her tongue to tell her that no, she hadn't washed her hair herself, but Thor had two night ago and she had washed his, but instead, she obediently sat up and covered her eyes as her maid poured a pitcher full of water over her head. “Don't tell me you didn't enjoy your week off.” 

“Ha!” Ayls laughed and started lathering up her hair. “You're not going to change the subject that easily.” She gently worked her fingers against her scalp. “I had to be informed of what a proper hairstyle is for your status and then a very stern lecture on how I'm to keep both Queen Frigga and Lady Eir informed of your health.” She gave Sigyn's shoulder a light squeeze. “Although given what I've just seen, I don't think there's much to report.” She snorted. “I believe that when you are having your time, it won't be hard for anyone to tell.” 

She could actually hear her maid's smirk. “I only turned a footman into a rabbit _once_.” She retorted. 

“He was asking for it!” Thor's voice called from the other room. 

“Oh, you two.” Ayls chuckled. “And here I was worried I'd find you shaking and relieved for a familiar face.” 

Sigyn folded her arms across her chest as Ayls started to wash her back. “Do I have any mail waiting for me?” 

“Indeed you do. Letters from your mother, grandmother, your married sisters, and a package from your brother on Midgard.” She shook her head. “I still don't understand what he's doing down there.” 

“That would be books.” She grinned. “He always sends books, you know that.” The prospect of opening her brother's latest shipment was always one of her favorite things. “Perhaps he sent another one on cooking.” 

“Just don't get it into your head to try and make something again.” She sighed. “What a disaster.” 

“Those cookies weren't _that_ bad.” she fumed. “So I spilled some ingredients, it's not as if I set something on fire.” She snorted. “And so what if I used the wrong type of sugar? The dogs certainly enjoyed the treats.” 

Ayls filled the pitcher with water again and Sigyn covered her eyes as the water washed over her, rinsing the soap away. “I've been down in the kitchens in this place. I don't think I could figure out how to put the kettle on for tea.” 

She pushed her wet hair out of her face. “That's good, you make lousy tea.” 

She snickered. “Oh, there's my sassy little Sigyn, I was hoping you were still here.” She chuckled and retrieved a towel. “All right, young lady, time you were dressed and ready for luncheon.” 

Sigyn stood and held up her arms so the woman could wrap her with the towel, hoping that Ayls wouldn't notice the few marks on her skin that Thor's mouth had left behind. The bruises on her hips were gone, but there were still a few things she still didn't want anyone, not even Ayls, looking at. “At least it's lunch and not dinner.” She stepped out of the tub and leaned over it, so the maid could wrap her hair in another towel. “Although that will come soon enough.” 

“True.” Ayls pulled the plug and then led her out of the bath and into her dressing chamber, shutting the door and locking it behind them. “His majesty's valet should be here shortly, and this will give us some privacy.” She looked around the room, frowning. “I do like how large this room is.” She went and retrieved some under-linen from one of the wardrobes. 

Sigyn removed the towel around her and dropped it in the laundry hamper. “It used to be Thor's study when he was younger.”  
“Hm.” The woman replied, not saying anything as she dressed her, giving her the same sympathetic look she always did when she started to tighten her corset strings. “Deep breath, my lady.” 

She inhaled as deeply as she could and nearly cried when Ayls tied the strings. “Can't breathe.” She caught the look on her maid's face in the mirror, then let out a relieved sound as the laces were undone. “I know, I should be able to...” Her words were cut off as the maid fastened the strings again. “Thank you.” 

“You've put on weight.” Ayls intoned. “Not much, but enough that you can't wear your corset as tight as you used to.” 

She made a face in the mirror. “I'm supposed to be putting on a great deal of weight, remember?” She wrinkled her nose. 

“I'm sorry, my lady.” She gave her a light hug. “But you remember how your mother always insisted that you and your sisters always have matching waists as soon as you started wearing corsets.” 

She snorted. “I do, which is highly unreasonable. We all have different figures.” She folded her arms. “What was even more stupid was having to match all my cousins as well. That was just cruel.” 

“That it was.” She went over to one of the wardrobes and came back carrying a butter-yellow gown with lace at the sleeves. “And we can be thankful that high waist dresses are back in fashion.” She removed the towel around Sigyn's hair and added to the basket before slipping the garment over her head. “That way, you will still be able to wear most of your clothes while pregnant.” 

She gave her maid a hard look. “I already have an entire realm waiting for me to get fat, I don't need you to remind me.”  


The woman clucked her tongue again. “This is why you brought me with you from Vanaheim, my lady. A maid from this realm would be giving you an exam trying to figure out if you're with child already.” She began to fasten up the gown. “And then rush off to the servants gallery with the gossip.” 

“At least I know you won't do that.” She sat down at the vanity and Ayls took up a comb. “You really have been a wonderful friend to me.” 

“I'm your maid, my lady.” She started working the comb through her hair. “But I am honored that you consider me a friend.”  
Sigyn watched in the mirror as the woman parted her hair, and she sighed. “I think what may also have Asgard's knickers in a twist is that I'm the same age as half of the court's daughters.” 

“There is that.” She smiled in response. “However, I will tell you that Eir asked me to keep her informed of your health and if I saw any changes in your behavior or body.” 

“I expected that.” She straightened up, lifting her chin. “And what are you telling her when she asks you this afternoon?”  


“That I'm currently unable to determine how you are. I haven't seen you in a week and honestly, the servants who collect your dishes and leave you food would have a better assessment.” She smirked. “And I know that because she questioned them already.” 

She managed a small smile. “Perhaps I should keep a journal and give it to the woman at the end of every week.” She saw her maid nod. “Do you think I should tell her how my bowels are, or is that too much information?” 

Ayls chuckled and started to pull her hair back. “I do not believe that will be necessary.” She leaned down close to her ear. “I see how his majesty looks at you and the fact that there is almost no dirty garments tells me that the two of you have spent much of the past week naked.” 

Sigyn went pink again but caught the look of approval in the woman's eyes. “They can't accuse of not trying.” She kept to herself that if anyone had doubts about what she and Thor had been doing, they would merely have to look at the state of the bedclothes. 

*  
Frigga would later wonder if she was the first to see the change. When Thor and Sigyn came into the Great Hall, she saw it almost instantly. While her son remained stoic and his expression calm and unemotional, there was something different; a little brightness in his eyes, a touch of lightness in his footsteps. While she could clearly see the weight of the realms on Thor, he didn't look as burdened as he had for centuries; it was almost as if he were – dare she hope for it? _Happy?_ She had not seen her son at ease since Loki died; then she supposed, she had not either. She also knew exactly who was responsible for this change; the young woman on his arm. 

Sigyn did not look any different to the Allmother than she had on her wedding day. She was still the small, mild-mannered and demure looking girl – an the only change Frigga could see was that she no longer looked ready to faint. Next to her son, her daughter in law was tiny, her head a good inch below his shoulder. Her expression was just as calm as her son's, but she looked about ready to duck behind him and hide from the crowd. 

Thor's bride had been chosen for two reasons; she was the daughter of a woman who had plenty of children of her own, and therefore, was certain to be fertile, and secondly – she was unremarkable. Of the king of Vanaheim's thirty-seven grandchildren, Sigyn was almost an afterthought, she was 'oh yes, that one' and while Frigga knew that one day that girl would have to take on the duties of the queen, with her non-existent accomplishments, it wouldn't be difficult for Frigga to teach her what she needed to know without any preconceived notions or habits. 

First things first, however, the girl had to produce an heir – but given the tiny movements she had observed between her son and his wife, she had a feeling that was not going to be a problem. It wouldn't surprise her in the least if there was already a babe growing in her belly. Right now, however, Sigyn was sitting across from her at the tea table, her focus on her hands in her lap. “Would you care for some cake?” She asked, and the girl looked up, her blue eyes bright. 

“No, no thank you.” She shot a look at the tower of sweets and savories between them, then back at her. “I mean...” 

She shook her head and indicated the food. “Perhaps a sandwich, then?” She paused, “Or you still full from luncheon?” 

Sigyn looked on the verge of tears and shook her head, her eyes back on her lap. “I'm fine.” She squeaked. 

She frowned and set down her cup, rather alarmed. “Whatever is the matter with you? Is this how you act when someone...” 

Her head came up and she gave her one of the blankest expressions she had ever seen. “I'm very well, thank you, your majesty.” 

“Norns, child.” She shook her head. “I'm not going to eat you, or have you executed, yet you seem to think I will.” 

She let out a half-giggle and then pressed her handkerchief to her lips, blushing. “I'm sorry.” 

“Don't be sorry.” She took up a plate and put a slice of cake, a sandwich and a few pieces of candied fruit on it, then handed to Sigyn. “Just relax.” She gave her a smile. “I haven't had a daughter in law to tea in years.” She sighed. “Sif was never one for such... formality.” 

She took the plate. “Thank you.” The scared expression was slightly broken; she looked rather sheepish. “At least it's just you... spending tea with my grandmother, mother and aunts is _terrifying_.” She picked up her fork and cut into the cake. 

Frigga almost smiled at the girl's words. “Did my son tell you that my bark is worse than my bite?” 

“Um... yes?” She stiffened again. “May I say again that I am very sorry for your loss.” 

She sighed and took up her teacup. “Thank you. It... this has been a difficult time for Asgard. Hopefully, we have seen the worst of it and now can move forward.” 

She stabbed her bite of cake with her fork. “As my father always told me, the only good thing about hitting the bottom is that the only way you can go afterward is up, because only a fool would ask for a shovel.” 

Frigga regarded her new daughter in law; the fork resting against her lips, a tiny smear of icing on her lip. It reminded her of just how young Sigyn was and that she looked about as queenly as a newborn kitten. Then again, kittens quickly gained their claws. “I do wish the circumstances of you being here were different.” 

“If they were different, your majesty, I would not be the one sitting in this chair.” She set her plate down, her shoulders becoming straighter. “I know what my duty is, and as far as Asgard is concerned, that's all that is expected of me.” She steeled herself up. “You know it as well as I do. The realm does not care a whit about me, and they won't until I give birth – and after I do, even then it's debatable if they will give a damn or not.” 

She didn't know if she wanted to slap the girl or hug her. While there was a great deal of truth in her words, to hear it put so bluntly, it sounded twice as horrible as it was. “You've already made Asgard better.” She saw the look of surprise on her daughter-in-law's face. “You have. It's been eight days and you've already made a difference.” 

“I sincerely doubt that, your majesty.” She took a drink of tea. “I haven't done anything.” 

“Eight days.” she shook her head. “Eight days ago, my son sat where you do now, with the weight of the Nine on him, his expression of a man resigned to an endless life of one burden to the next. Now, now he's different. I have no idea what you did or said, but he does not look the same as he did this time last week.” She saw the girl's face turn scarlet, the color extending to her ears. “You certainly don't have to tell me girl, I have a good idea...” 

“Don't. Call. Me. Girl.” Sigyn seethed, her teeth clenched. 

“Oh, she does have claws.” She chuckled. “I'm sorry, Sigyn.” Frigga reached over and squeezed her knee. “Now, fortunately, summer is nearly upon us and court will go into recess. That will relieve some of the pressure on you and Thor.” She sat back and took up her tea again. “Well, at least in an obvious manner.” 

She turned her attention to her plate, not looking at her. “I often thought that the more a woman is expected to produce a baby, the sooner people expect her to have it.” She wrinkled her nose. “You can't be married one night and go through an entire pregnancy before the sun rises the next day. That only happens in stories.” 

“True.” She took a plate of her own and put a slice of cake on it. “However, time can also seem to drag on when you are waiting something.” She picked up her fork. “I take you have already been informed of your limited activities for the time being?” She ate a bite of cake. 

She nodded, spearing a piece of fruit. “It's perfectly fine, I was never one for riding and at least I am still allowed to read.” She looked sheepish. “And yes, I know what seidr I am limited to.” 

Frigga sighed and set down her fork. “I know it seems daunting now. This is just the start of the second week. It will get easier as time goes by.” She reached over and squeezed her knee again. “And it will be a great deal better when people stop staring at your stomach.” She shook her head. “Then again, there's many a man who has trouble looking above a woman's shoulders.” 

“My brother Fjólar tells me that problem exists on all realms. Except on Midgard, a woman is fully entitled to slap a man in many countries for such an infraction.” She set her fork down and picked up the sandwich. “He was sent to Midgard to try and understand their culture, but every place he goes, things that were taboo in one country are perfectly acceptable in others.” 

“Midgard.” She sighed. “No common language, religion or set of rules.” She smiled. “And yet, no one bothers them because of what they did to Thanos.” 

Sigyn shook her head. “It was some sort of explosive they sent through the Tesseract, was it not?” 

“Yes, and a remarkably simple one. Thanos threw an army at one of their cities... oh, which one was it...” 

“London.” She replied, taking a bite of her sandwich. 

“Yes! That's the one.” She let herself relax. “Has your brother been to London?” 

She nodded and took a drink of tea. “He sent me a small toy from there. His letter told me that they have vehicles there exactly like it, except proper sized. His letter said they were called a double-decked bus.” She smiled. “He always does that. He sends me a book and some sort of toy. I think he's believes I still live in the nursery.” 

“Older brothers can be worse than fathers in realizing when their sisters have grown up.” She smiled. “Did you bring your collection with you?” 

“I did.” She replied, and Frigga saw some of the tension leave her. “I don't suppose my books arrived while I was ah....”  
She nodded. “Indeed they did. All four trunks worth.” She took a sip of tea. “There's a vacant chamber directly across from you and Thor's. I believe that will do for your private library.” 

“Thank you, your majesty.” She answered, rather prettily. 

“Sigyn, please, call me Frigga.” She replied, taking another bite of cake.  
*  
Thor scanned the document in front of him, his mind only half-way interested in the information. With the weather so far this spring, farmers were predicting a bumper crop of wheat and some nobles wanted to increase taxes because of it. He was of the mind that taxes, which stood at seven percent, were high enough and it would be better to pay the farmers for the excess wheat and store it for the future and let the peasants enjoy their good fortune than for nobles to gain more money. He rubbed his temple and glanced up when he heard a knock at the door. “Come.” 

Fandral's face appeared on the other side. “Good afternoon, your majesty.” 

He gave his friend a look. “If I wanted a court jester, I would hire one.” He indicated the chair on the other side of the desk. 

He sighed and came into the room, shutting the door behind him. “Still so serious.” He sat down. “I have not had the pleasure of your company for over a week, can you blame me?” 

Thor set the document down and chuckled weakly. “When did we get so old, Fandral?” 

“I have no idea. All I know is that Volstagg found a gray hair this past week and was devastated.” He folded his arms. “Then again, he is a thousand years our senior, so it's about time he found a gray hair or two.” 

“Mother always says that people with red hair are the last to go gray.” He took a drink from the mug of tea on his desk. “What brings you down here?” 

“What can I say, I missed your ugly mug.” He smirked. 

“You know I can have you flogged for saying that.” He leaned his head against his hand. “Your wife might argue you need a good whipping.” 

Fandral spluttered. “Come now, I meant no harm. My wife might also be rather put out if I was injured so.” 

Thor didn't change his expression. “You're right. She already has to dress three children every day, I doubt she would appreciate having a fourth, particularly one who would be quite the baby.” 

He sighed and shook his head, a tiny chuckle escaping his lips. “As amusing at that was, Thor, sarcasm was never your forte, it was Loki's.” 

“That it was.” He took up his mug and took a drink. “And he'd agree with me on the flogging.” 

Fandral coughed and shook his head to cover his mirth. “Oh, there's the Thor Odinson I've long missed speaking with!” He smiled. “It seems like forever since I've seen you in this mood, well over a year, at least.” 

“It's been a difficult year.” He said more to his tea than to his friend. The familiar twist of pain in his heart when he thought or talked about Loki was there, but it was deadened this time. The pain not nearly as sharp. “Now I know you didn't come down here because you missed me.” He took a drink. “I'm sorry, would you care for some? He indicated the tea. 

“No, thank you.” He sighed. “I came to request a transfer to the Vanir outpost.” 

He frowned. “You wish to leave Asgard?” 

“I have three girls, Thor. The schools for seidr are better on Vanaheim and Herbjørg would not dream of them being off realm without their mother.” He sighed. “I know that by asking to leave, that will just leave you with Volstagg from our old gang of friends, but we must admit, we have not been that merry band of warriors in the past five hundred years.” 

“No, no we haven't.” He gave Fandral a worn smile. “I will be very sorry to see you go, but I can understand why you wish to keep your family together.” He frowned. “Goodness, are the girls that old already? Erna wasn't that much younger than Ullr, last time I checked.” 

“It's no good asking me, Thor. Erna may be the eldest at four hundred and seventy eight, but I swear she was a babe in arms last week.” Fandral shook his head. “How she gained two little sisters in that time, I could not say.” 

He took another sip of tea. “I'll get the orders written up, do you think you could be ready to move come this summer?” 

“I should be able to.” He smiled. “Don't look so glum, Thor. Perhaps Hogun will transfer back here.” 

“Hogun is not going to give up his position at the Vanir Military Academy, Fandral, you know that and I know that. We all grew up, that's just how it is.” He sighed and sat back. “Perhaps this time next year, we could all go on a hunting trip together. For old time's sake.” 

“Now I know you've changed.” He folded his arms, smirking. “I thought I was imagining things, but you just mentioned a hunting trip.” Thor frowned at him. “And you haven't talked about taking one of those since shortly before your father died.” 

“Fandral...” He almost didn't recognize his own voice; it was his dangerous tone, one he rarely used outside of court during a debate that was rapidly deteriorating. 

His friend stood and clapped him on the arm, beaming. “I swear, I'll slay anyone who says anything uncouth or cruel about your wife, Thor. I've not even been formally introduced to Sigyn, but she's already done something for Asgard I thought no one could ever do.” He met his eyes. “Welcome back to the land of the living, my friend.” 

“I wasn't gone that long.” His voice cracked. “Just since Loki...” He fell silent as he saw Fandral shake his head. 

“It's been five hundred and three years, Thor.” He took a deep breath, “and I know that because I've been counting.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thor 2,206 - 30  
> Sigyn 1,000 - 18
> 
> In regards to the 'drunk' stories - Thor was the equivalent of 10 when his story took place, Sigyn was close to 14.
> 
> There will be more to this story. As far as HC-Bingo goes, this is where it ends.


End file.
